I'm Going To Find A Way
by VerityFrancesB
Summary: ...To Let You Have Your Way With Me.  Gale and Randy RPS.


Title from Safetysuit's Find A Way

And unfortunately this is NOT real, just my imagination, Gale and Randy belong to themselves.

* * *

><p>It's the end of a long day, Gale's feet ache and his head hurts and all he wants to do is jump in the shower, brining himself off slowly, and fall asleep in his overly large bed.<p>

He jumps as the ringing from his laptop breaks the easy silence in his apartment. Gale suppresses the urge to throw it on the floor and stamp on it, and groans as he answers the Skype call. Randy's face appears on the screen, smile a mile wide, and he waves a little, and Gale's irritation is suddenly gone, replaced with fondness and a stirring low in his stomach.

"Hey." Randy says, and bites on his bottom lip gently. Gale mirrors his smile and bites back the urge to run his fingers down the screen.

"Hey back." He replies and Randy runs a hand through his hair.

"So." Randy begins, voice shaking slightly. Gale had been worried when they first started whatever the hell they were doing, that things would be awkward between them, but Randy is bright and warm and words come easily to him, even though this is all still so new and there's still a lingering sense of worry and embarrassment. "I was thinking of flying down next weekend. That good for you?" He asks, and doesn't wait for answer as Gale leans back and just watches the animated way his face lights up when he smiles. "Oh, I spoke to Peter the other day and he was saying that..."

"Christ I miss you Randy." Randy stops mid sentence, blush spreading across his cheeks and he looks down, fiddles with something off screen. Gale almost regrets the words but then Randy is doing...well _something _below the computer screen, all focused energy and concentration and Gale nearly bites through his tongue when he realises that Randy has his hand around himself. Randy looks up, eyes wide with lust, slight blush against his cheeks like he's almost embarrassed about putting on a show and smirks a little, pulls his bottom lip between his teeth again and makes a show of arching into his own fist.

"You miss this Gale?" Randy is talking but Gale can't make out the words over the raging _ohgodneedhimnowcantwait_ in his head. Randy smiles, runs a hand down his throat, and Gale wants so much to be touching him right now.

Randy jumps suddenly and then is scrabbling down at his pants.

"Shit. Someone's at the door. Gotta go, speak later." The call cuts out and the screen goes blank. Gale groans.

Seriously, one of these days the kid is going to kill him.

~#~

Randy has been half hard most of the evening. It doesn't help that his latest show has him in slightly _too_ tight pants. And it doesn't help that Gale isn't around to help him once he gets off the stage.

Its crowded backstage, extras and crew members, lighting staff, all crowding into the small space behind the stage and it's not helping Randy as he squeezes past one of them, with a muttered apology, and their hip brushes over his crotch in just the right way. Randy nearly bites through his lip in the effort not grab the guy and rub himself off on him like a rutting dog. The guy smiles, pretty, and there's a hint of a promise, a proposition in his eyes that Randy would have jumped at before...before Gale. Before this thing that has him almost constantly hard and needing.

"No problem." He says and looks slightly crestfallen when Randy backs as far away as he can.

His cell is ringing by the time his gets back to his tiny closet of a dressing room, and he doesn't even look as he picks it up.

"What?" He snaps, fumbling one handed with his pants. The material is too damn restrictive for its own good.

"Is that anyway to answer your cell?" Randy's irritating is almost instantly calmed as Gale's voice fills his head. He manages to get his pants open enough to push them down his thighs. He glances at his watch.

"What are you doing up? Its like 1 in the morning with you." He says, sitting in the tiny chair in the corner of the room.

"Could ask you the same thing, its 4 in the morning there. But some jerk called me 5 hours ago and left me hanging." Gale says, light amusement and fondness in his tone. Randy slouches, resting his feet on the counter in front of him, looks in the mirror and catches a glimpse of his own tired face. "Been up ever since."

"Up? Really? Must have been _some_ jerk." Randy says and he hears Gale laugh. If he closes his eyes he can see him, padding around his apartment in pyjama pants and no shirt, feet bare and hair a little wild.

"He is." Gale replies, "So any reason why you snapped at me?"

"Some jerk has been in my head for 5 hours." Randy replies, scratching lightly at his stomach, his fingers itching to move lower, wrap around himself and twist. Gale laughs again, a low chuckle this time and the noise goes straight to Randy's cock, it twitches in his boxers.

"Hey Rand?" There's an almost uncomfortable tone in Gale's voice, like he's not happy about what he's about to say and Randy sits up, worry flooding through his body. They're still so new, started this "relationship" the night they wrapped, desperation at the thought they might not be together anymore fuelling them both, and then they had gone their separate ways, Gale to LA, Randy to New York. Promising to call and fly to each other. The calls had been filled, flying had yet to come.

"Yeah?" Silence falls between them and Randy's worry picks up a notch. Gale clears his throat.

"Touchyourselfforme." He says it quickly, embarrassment colouring his words, and Randy would have missed it if he hadn't been listening so clearly.

"Fuck. Yeah ok." He replies and can practically hear Gale relax on the other end of the phone. His hand shakes slightly as he trails it down his stomach, reaches into his boxers. His breath hitches and he hears Gale's do the same. The knowledge that Gale is touching himself spurs him on, and he wraps his hand around himself, squeezes slightly. "God I wanna see you." He bites out, twisting his hand almost too roughly; desperate to get off, to get rid of this close to the edge feeling that has been with him for hours.

Gale groans, the sound vibrating down the phone and it sounds like Randy's name. His breathing is laboured and Randy imagines the way he looks now, eyes heavy, tanned skin gleaming with a light sheen of sweat. He twists his hand, swipes his thumb over the slit, feels himself getting close, heat pooling in his stomach.

There's a soft snore from the phone and Randy freezes.

"Gale?" There's no answer and Randy tries again, a little louder this time, gets a murmured "hmmm" in reply and his irritation kicks up again.

"Dick." He mutters as he shuts off the phone, tightens his grip around it to stop himself from hurling it across the room. His cock throbs between his legs and he breathes out, pinching the bridge of his nose.

He mentally ticks off the days left on his show, counting them down. He's got ten days to figure out the best way possible to get Gale back. He smiles to himself as he pulls on his jeans. Poor Gale isn't going to know what's hit him.

~#~

Gale wakes the next morning sprawled half naked on his bed, one hand sticky with dried come, the other wrapped around a beeping cell phone. He curses as he snaps the phone shut and grimaces at his hand, runs his clean one over his face, scrubs the sleep from his gritty eyes.

"Fuck." This is not a good way to start the morning, with the knowledge that you made your boyfr...made Randy touch himself, came down the phone and promptly fell asleep. Randy is probably pissed as hell at him.

Throughout his boring day of mundane chores Gale keeps glancing at the phone, he knows he should probably call, but how the hell do you apologise for falling asleep during the middle of a phone sex session?

Its not until five that afternoon that his phone beeps, Gale pounces on it, practically ripping it open.

_I'm not talking to you so stop staring at your phone._

Gale smiles at the message. Randy knows him so well, has got right under his skin, far enough that he knew that Gale would have been staring at his phone all day. The message is meant to be pissed but Gale knows there is fondness under the anger and he can't help but press the call button.

"I said I'm not talking to you." Randy answers almost straight away, his tone dark. There's noise in the background and Gale knows he's in public, the thoughts makes him smirk. Gale chuckles lightly and throws himself down on his couch. "It's not funny." Randy sulks.

"Oh come on Rand, its kinda funny."

"You try being hard all night and see how funny you find it." Randy snaps, voice pitch low and almost whispering and Gale rests his hand over his crotch, hips twitching slightly upwards.

"So you still hard Rand?" He asks. After the initial embarrassment of asking Randy to touch himself last night, its like the floodgates have opened, and Gale can't stop the words from falling.

"Gale..." Randy practically whines.

"Are you?" Gale asks again and he hears Randy take in a shuddering breath.

"Can you not do this right now?" Randy asks and Gale grins, pops his buttons on his jeans, snakes his hand inside.

"Where are you?" He asks and hears a chair scrape back as Randy, presumably stands. There's a few minutes silence, punctuated by Randy muttering _sorry_ and _this will only take a minute_ and then the background noise suddenly cuts out.

"I _was_ at a meeting." He says, short, words clipped and Gale knows it's because he trying hard not to be turned on right now.

"Go to the bathroom." Randy sighs and Gale can imagine him pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance, the image makes him smile, makes the ache of distance kick up a notch too.

"I'm in the bathroom already." He says, "But I am not about to...do what you want me to do." The last bit is whispered and Gale chuckles again.

"You sure about that?" He says, moving his hand slightly, gasping and arching his hips upwards. Randy hears the gasp, groans quietly down the phone.

"I hate you." Randy says, and Gale moves his hand again, up the length of his cock, runs his thumb over the slit and smears pre cum over his palm. "I've gotta go." Randy says and Gale groans out a pleading _no_. There is a triumphant smirk in Randy's tone when he answers with a matter-of-fact "Yes" and Gale wants to cry at the frustration pulsing through his blood. "I'll see you next weekend." Randy says before he shuts off the call.

Gale wrenches his hand out from his pants, slams his phone down on the coffee table. He really should have expected some kind of payback, but that was just cruel.

~#~

After hanging up on Gale, Randy feels a little better, less on edge and goes back to the meeting with a spring in his step. It falters though when his phone vibrates in his pocket.

_I am going to fuck you so hard next weekend._

Randy blushes as he pushes his phone back into his pocket. He honestly never expected Gale to be one to talk dirty, to use words as well as touches to turn him on. It surprises him at the same time as it takes his breath away. However well he thought he knew Gale, its nothing compared to getting to know him in this way.

He calls Gale as soon as he gets back to his apartment, pulling his phone out of his pocket even before the door closes behind him.

"You busy?" He asks, tucking the phone between his chin and shoulder and reaching into the fridge for a bottle of water.

"No, why?" Gale replies, all innocence and Randy can't help the smile that tugs at his lips.

"Well I was thinking we could actually finish this thing." Gale lets out a laugh and Randy leans up against his counter, taking a long pull of the cool water.

"This _thing_? You're gonna have to clearer than that Rand cos I have no idea what you're talking about." Gale says, laughter in his voice and Randy wants to punch him, or kiss him.

"Come on Gale, I'm dying here." Something in the tone of his voice must have kick started something in Gale because when he next speaks all hints of amusement are gone.

"I bet you blushed when I sent you that message earlier, went back to the meeting red in the face and half hard. Didn't you Randy?" Gale say, his voice dropping lower and Randy closes his eyes, imagines Gale is standing in front of him, leaning in and speaking right into his ear, his breath hot against Randy's skin.

"Yes."

"You sat there and thought about me didn't you?" Gale asks, and Randy can't help the way his hand snakes down his stomach, dipping below the waistband of the jeans. "Come on Rand, talk to me."

"God I wish you were here." Randy breathes out as his hand wraps around his cock. Gale's breathing picks up and Randy clenches his fingers around the phone.

"What would I be doing?" He asks. Randy pushes his jeans down his thighs, they pool on the floor at his feet.

"Touching me." Randy says, slipping down to the floor, spreading his knees wide, hand twisting and stroking himself.

"Where? Come on Randy, tell me." Randy bites his lip, fingers tightening around his cock. He hears the hitch in Gale's breathing and knows Gale's touching himself as well.

"Fuck." He's so close already, been on the edge for what seems like weeks, since he last had Gale's hands on him, since he last got to taste Gale's kisses in his lips.

"God, soon Randy." Gale breathes. "Where am I touching you?"

Randy bites his lip again, he's never been one for dirty talk, never been able to make the words sound sexy from his mouth, but he's starting to love the way Gale talks to him, voice low and almost dangerous.

"Fuck, your hand's on my cock." Randy spits out hurriedly, like saying it fast will make it less embarrassing.

"Slow down." Gale says, orders, like he can hear the desperation in Randy's breathing, in the way it hitches as he twists on the upstroke. Randy's hand slows, almost stops, he whines as his hips twitch upwards, seeking friction.

"Gale..."

"Finish it Rand, come for me." And Randy does, twists his hand, pictures Gale above him, driving into him, and he comes, hard, shudders and spills over his hand, Gale's name on his lips, hears Gale follow him a second later.

"God you sound like a porn star when you come." Gale chuckles lightly down the phone, breathless and voice sounding sleepy and sated. Randy laughs with him, hand moving slightly as he rides out the little waves of pleasure. He hisses as it gets too much and pulls his hand away, wiping it on his worn t-shirt.

"So next weekend, you do realise your ass is mine from the second you walk through my door right?" Randy knows, and he's more than ok with it.

~#~

The last few days are the worst, tension running through his body, making him jumpy and snappy, almost half hard the whole time, fingers itching to call Gale, to touch him, to touch himself. His leg bounces as he sits in the plane waiting to take off. The woman next to him glares at him and Randy grimaces an apology and twists his hands together instead.

"Scared of flying?" The woman asks. Randy wants to reply with _no, just desperate to get fucked by Gale Harold_, but he just flashes her a tight smile and nods once. He grabs his phone and types a quick message to Gale, _just about to take off, can't wait to see you_, before switching the phone off and shoving it back in his bag.

"More people die from coconuts falling on their heads than plane crashes." The woman says and Randy knows it's meant to be comforting, but he can't help wonder how many people have died from sexual frustration. He closes his eyes, drags in a deep breath, fingers clenching at the arm rests as the plane starts to move down the runway.

Somehow he manages to fall asleep, wakes with a jerk as the plane lands heavily on the runway at LAX, his cock throbbing in his pants as he wipes the sleep from his eyes and shakes his head to clear the images of Gale from his mind. He turns his phone on as soon as he can, yawns to pop his ears.

_Looking forward to it, key with concierge, he knows you're coming, let yourself in mi casa et su casa_

Randy smiles at the message, the fact that Gale would tell anyone he was coming is enough to make him grin like a fool. They haven't talked about that yet, haven't broached the subject of Gale coming out, of what this means for them, of where this is going and Randy is happy enough right now to just sit back and let it happen.

He hails a cab, gives the driver Gale's address and sits back, his leg bouncing again, his stomach tying in knots the closer he gets to Gale's apartment.

~#~

Randy pushes the door quietly open, dropping his bag on the floor and toeing off his shoes. The apartment is understated, everything about it screams Gale and easy masculinity, right down to the beaten up old leather chair in the corner of the living room. The apartment is quiet and Randy wants to snoop, wants to look around at all the little places, look in drawers and cupboards, but he walks through the living room, heading down the hallway, pausing at each room to stick his head inside.

He doesn't know what stops him from calling out but he's glad he didn't when he looks in the last room and finds Gale, propped up against the headboard of a huge bed, book open against his bare chest, fast asleep. There's a slight shadow on his jawline, the evening sun streaming through the window highlights the contrast of smooth skin and stubble and Randy's fingers twitch.

He's caught between wanting to wake him up and see that slow sleepy smile grace his face, or strip naked and ride him awake, see how Gale's body reacts to his in sleep. His body takes over before his brain has a chance to process the two arguments, hands going to his t-shirt, pulling it over his head. It drops to the floor as Randy pops the button on his jeans. They hit the floor, the button thudding quietly and Gale shifts, the book falls off his chest and Randy is graced with the expanse of skin he's been dreaming about for weeks.

The skin of Gale's thighs is warm between his own when he gently straddles him, muscles quivering with the effort of staying up, not putting too much pressure on Gale, keeping him asleep as long as possible. Randy gently runs his fingers across them, and Gale's brow furrows in his sleep, hands twitch by his sides.

His fingers shake slightly with need as he reaches forward and gently inches down Gale's boxers, just enough to get his hand inside and wrap it around Gale's cock. Gale sighs heavily in his sleep, slouching downwards as he shifts, hips arching minutely on their own accord. He's practically lying flat now and Randy leans forward, breathes in the scent of him, the one that drove him crazy when they were filming, the one that still drives him crazy now, his hand moving gently, feeling the flesh harden under his touch.

His eyes flick to the bedside table and he suppresses a laugh at the bottle of lube and condoms sitting on it. He can imagine how embarrassed Gale must have been buying them and the thought makes affection bloom in his chest as he leans forward and grabs it.

It doesn't take him long to open himself up, eyes fixed on Gale's face, watching for signs of wake, his eyelids flutter and he mutters something in his sleep. He groans slightly as Randy's hand leaves him. Randy rips open the condom wrapper with his teeth. Pulling Gale's boxers down enough to free his cock, he rolls the condom on Gale with a practiced hand, feeling himself get hard with his fingers in himself, and the sight of Gale laid out in front of him.

Gale shifts again, eyes fluttering more and his hands move, coming to rest on Randy's thighs, fingers curling slightly into his skin, a noise that sounds like _Randy_ falling from his mouth. Randy lifts himself, lines himself up and sinks down and Gale's eyes fly open.

"Randy..." It's a question and a statement all at the same time and Randy leans forward, kisses him, feels Gale's fingers tighten on his thighs. Randy lifts himself up, sinks back down and Gale stares at him, eyes wide and completely awake now, his hands leave Randy's thighs, cup his face and pull him roughly forward, kisses him hard. "Fuck...you're here." He says and Randy moves again, fucking himself on Gale's cock.

Randy feels the world shift and he's on his back, staring up at Gale who growls softly thrusting his hips as he leans down and kisses him again. Randy's fingers dig into Gale's shoulders, feel the muscles under his skin.

"Missed you." Gale mutters into his neck, breath hot against his skin, nips at his pulse and Randy feels himself get close, the tingle up his spine and his toes curl, heat pooling in his stomach.

"Harder." He urges, winds his fingers into Gale's hair and pulls him up, looking him in the eyes. Randy arches up, his whole body going taught, when Gale shifts, hits that spot inside him, and white explodes behind his eyelids when he squeezes them shut, shudders hard and comes, hot and sticky, between them.

Gale thrusts twice more and follows, hips stuttering, kissing Randy has he comes buried deep inside.

"Fuck." Gale exclaims, breathing heavily into Randy's neck. Randy's fingers play with the damp hair at the back of his neck and he chuckles slightly. "Not that I'm complaining but I kinda wanted to be awake for the beginning of that."

"Next time." Randy says, wincing slightly as Gale moves and pulls out. Gale runs a hand through Randy's hair, twists the blond strands around his fingers gently.

"Right...and that's likely to be...when?" Gale asks, grinning slightly, pulling Randy's head to the side and licking at his neck.

"God, give me ten minutes would you?" Randy replies, hands coming up automatically to pull Gale closer.

"Ten minutes? Great. So I'll go order food then we can shower." Randy lets out a laugh as Gale jumps off the bed and bounds out of the room. He hears him on the phone a few moments later.

Randy moves, groans as his muscles protest and he pads down the hallway to the kitchen. Leaning against the door frame he watches Gale pace the kitchen, skin still slightly damp with sweat. Gale jumps when he sees him, but an easy smile graces his features, eyes sparkling.

"Did you order extra crackers?" Randy asks, moving towards him and Gale makes a face as if to say "duh", wraps his arm around Randy and pulls him close, dropping a kiss onto the top of his head as he ends the call.

"How exactly are you intending to keep that boyish figure with extra crackers?" Gale asks, laughing, pressing Randy back against the counter. Randy aches into him and Gale draws in a shaky breath.

"I'll work them off." Randy says and Gale raises an eyebrow in amusement before his face sobers suddenly.

"God it's good to see you." He mutters, hands cupping Randy's face again. His kiss is deep this time, passionate and full of promise and something else which Randy doesn't want to indentify, not yet.

"You mentioned a shower?" He says and Gale pulls back, licks his bottom lip slowly, a grin tugging on his lips. They may be unsure of where they are, what this is, but they're together, and they're easy enough around each other that they don't need to define it yet, neither one is desperate for answers that they can't give.

Randy smiles at him, presses a kiss to his mouth. Gale kisses back, pulls him so close that Randy's toes nearly leave the floor.

"If you don't get in that shower now I'm going to have to fuck you right here." Gale says and Randy laughs, wiggles against him, watches the flicker of lust cross his face.

"And that's a problem because?"

"I just got the floor cleaned." He states, deadly serious and Randy laughs. Gale frowns, trying not to smile at him, points down the hallway. "Get your ass in the shower Harrison."

Randy salutes, tries to pull off serious but its hard wearing nothing with Gale's scent still lingering on his skin.

"Yes Harold. This ass is yours after all."

"Damn right it is."


End file.
